Her Two Jims
by EmptyHallway
Summary: It wasn't that she couldn't have named her dog something else. It was that only one name fit. Jim. Jam, of course


Sigh. All I own is my laptop and my splenderful TiVo box that allows me to watch The Office as I please. Read, enjoy, and REVIEW, my minions, REVIEW!

* * *

On the day marking her first year anniversary with Dunder-Mifflin (she could barely remember the day - it was so long ago), she had decided to buy a cat.

Roy hadn't wanted to come (he never wanted to go anywhere), so she had asked Jim to go with her. He had agreed.

Pam had felt guilty when they were in that mall, because in her head, she pretended they were there as a couple (this was who Roy was supposed to be, she thought). It took her all her strength not to lace her fingers with his.

They stopped at the coffee place, and Pam teased him for ordering a hot chocolate. They acted like a pair of highschool sweethearts (Highschool. Ninth grade. Before she met Roy), laughing and joking and throwing things at each other.

They acted as if she had no fiance to go home to.

* * *

The owner smiled and said that they made a lovely couple. Pam turned red (but didn't correct him). No one ever said that when she was out with Roy.

When they finally arrived at the pet store (caught up in a bubble of laughter), Pam had wanted to stay there forever. She had never had so much fun.

* * *

To be honest, she didn't like cats. She only wanted to get a cat because Roy had told her dogs were too much work (after all, she had him to take care of). The pet store cats were ugly.

She and Jim made fun of them. Jim compared one to Dwight, which kind of scared her (it scared her nearly as much as the fact that she never wanted to go home). Jim grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face the dogs.

He started talking, but she wasn't listening. She still felt where he had touched her (Roy never touched her tenderly).

She wanted his hands to stay there.

* * *

She immediately fell in love with one of the dogs (he reminded her of Jim). Feeling impulsive, she nodded to the clerk and walked to the counter. Jim had bought the dog a collar and bowls.

That night was the first night she didn't feel alone (though Roy was always there). She had her dog. She had a reminder of Jim.

He was a loyal, friendly, caring dog. She loved him more than anything (it was sad, but she loved him more than Roy). There was only one fitting name for her dog.

Jim.

* * *

She never told Jim the dog's name. No one knew it except for her (Roy had never asked). Her two Jims nearly canceled out the Roy.

Every so often, she'd find something silly on her desk for her dog. She knew Jim left them there (always with a note). Roy never gave her gifts, let alone gifts for her dog.

* * *

The afternoon before Casino night (she hated how she had loved that kiss), she had returned from lunch to find a pretty striped afghan in her chair. _An afghan for your Afghani, _the note had read, referring to one of Michael's earlier gaffs.

As usual, it was unsigned (it didn't need to be). If Jim signed the notes, he would have been trespassing in another man's territory.

Roy should be the one leaving the gifts.

* * *

When she got home that night, she made a show of putting the blanket out for the dog Jim. She wanted dearly for Roy to ask (to care) about it (or her). He didn't.

It took dog Jim's slobbery kisses to give her the courage to go out that night.

It took real Jim's tender kisses to send her back home.

* * *

Jim and Roy both left her life at around the same time (though they left her heart at different rates). The only one she had left was dog Jim.

When she moved to her new apartment, there was an empty bedroom. She made it into a new project (it kept her heart away from Jim). It became a doggy-playground.

She painted the walls with pictures of bones and frisbees (she had the impulse to add pictures of the real Jim), and decorated the room with toys and baskets.

But you could tell what the true focal point was.

* * *

The room was centered around the things that real Jim (he was now just memory Jim) had given her. The wicker basket, the striped afghan, the bobblehead chewtoy, the rhinestone collar, the squeaky telephone... It was all there.

Pam had always treasured the joke gifts that Jim had given to her for the dog (she would have treasured anything he gave her). Dog Jim could sense that some things were special.

Dog Jim loved them almost as much as she loved real Jim.

And that was a lot.

* * *

When Jim came back to the office with Karen, she had to stop herself from crying (instead she wept on the inside). That night, she crawled into her bed at six and refused to come out.

Dog Jim understood (he understood everything). He curled up with her and let her cry into his fur. He showered her with wet kisses. He let her know that she wasn't alone.

But she knew that without real Jim with them, she was.

* * *

Then Michael had had the brilliant idea of having a pet day. All the employees had to bring a pet to work. Jim asked her if she would bring her dog (it was the only thing he said to her in a week).

She nodded and excused herself to go the bathroom (her secret haven). She cried out of happiness there.

He had remembered her dog.

* * *

The next day was a memorable one (weren't they all, when Jim was around?). Dogs barked, cats meowed, birds chirped. Dwight had a chicken.

Jim stood talking to Karen, who had a lovely little parakeet. Pam, filled with sadness at knowing that she would never be in Karen's place (oh, how she longed to!), gave dog Jim an extra squeeze.

Dog Jim gave her a kiss that for once didn't console her (only real Jim's could do that now). She knew that her chance had ended with dog Jim's gifts.

A long time ago.

* * *

The rest of the day passed miserably (like every other day). Only at 4:30 did something happen.

She had turned around to tie her shoe, and dog Jim had taken off. He ran to real Jim (did they remember each other from so many years ago?), and stopped by his feet.

"Jim!" Pam shouted at the dog without thinking. Jim looked at her (she loved his eyes). "What?" He asked.

"Not you, the dog." She replied. Dog Jim ran back to her side (filling up half of her heart). Real Jim stared at her.

"You named him after me?" He asked. He had walked closer to her (but not nearly close enough), and had begun to pet dog Jim lovingly.

"Yes." She replied frankly.

* * *

The next day, she found a thin collar on her desk, sitting on top of a card.

_Jim_. The collar had written on it in jeweled letters.

_A dog with such a great name should have a matching collar. -Jim. _This time, he signed the post-it near the letter (there was no territory to intrude on now).

_P.S. Please read the card. _He had scrawled underneath.

She did.

* * *

Dog Jim had filled half of her heart, and the contents of the card filled the other half.

Her heart was consumed with everything she loved (everything Jim).

And as she looked over his desk at him and smiled (and as he smiled back).

And as she kissed him once again that night (and as he kissed her back).

She knew, that between her two Jims,

there was no need to ever cry again.


End file.
